


The Bet

by foggysundays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Crack, Ghost Bobby, M/M, POV Bobby Singer, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggysundays/pseuds/foggysundays
Summary: Bobby walks in on an unfortunate scene.





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt can be found here](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/122619.html?thread=43620603#t43620603)

“Oh _fucking Hell_!“

Bobby could do nothing but stare at the scene unfolding in front of him. By Satan´s pit, more than three decades of knowing those damn Winchester men, and he had always managed to avoid walking in on moments like this. He had been perfectly happy to have _no_ profound knowledge of their sex lives whatsoever. Bobby was not a complete moron, of course, he was well aware that his two boys were handsome men, both of them giving off the kind of dangerous vibes lots of females seemed to find irresistible. And between Dean´s shameless charm and Sam´s innocent puppy eyes, not many stood a chance. Hell, if even half of Dean´s stories were true, that kid had a longer track record than most fulltime hookers after thirty years of work. And that only accounted for the female population.

Sammy had always been quieter about his conquests, but that certainly didn’t mean that he was any better than his older brother. For God´s sake, that kid had gone to College!

Still, knowing in an abstract way that those boys liked to fool around was one thing, walking in on them doing the horizontal mambo jambo was an entirely different matter. Especially when they were both busy at the same time. With each other.

Fucking _balls_ , he would never be able to get that image out of his head! His only solace was that ghosts didn’t need to sleep, the nightmares following this particular encounter would have been horrific.

Bobby was scarred for life! Or death, whatever. And he really, really would have counted himself lucky if he´d able to erase the knowledge that Dean fucking Winchester, ladies’ man extraordinaire, liked to take it up the ass. From his frigging brother, no less. And God, that boy had a mouth on him, no idea how Sam could stand it…. Though that might explain the gag he´d seen in the Impala – NO! Better not go there. Never.

Bobby needed a drink. Right now. Something to help him erase those memories. Too frigging bad that he was _still_ unable to get a grip on that ghost thing, he wouldn’t even be able to _lift_ the damn bottle if he found it. This had to be the worst week of his life _and_ of his afterlife. Dying could do this to a man. Dying, and discovering that his adopted sons were apparently in a big, fat, gay, incestuous relationship. Including lots of really loud butt sex. They were vocal enough to make themselves heard even though he tried to get as far away as possible. Which was not very far anyway, damn flask!

He really should have knocked. Or listened for suspicious sounds before entering the room, or – Lucifer´s FUCKING eyeballs! Oh HELL no! By the nine circles of hell, never in his LIFE had he ever lost a fucking bet to Rufus frigging Turner. Never, not even once! Why did this have to start now, as soon as he´s dead. Bobby cursed some more and decided that this was just another reason for him to stay down here. No way he was going to tell that smug bastard that he had been right all along. And that Bobby apparently now owed him 130 $. 50 $ on the boys fucking each other and another 80 $ on Sam doing the fucking. Balls!


End file.
